


My Squire is All Grown Up

by WhiteravenGreywolf



Series: If I stay [15]
Category: Captain Marvel (2019)
Genre: Being a badass runs in the family, Family Vacation, Gen, Monica is a badass (like her mom), Mother-Daughter Relationship, Ramvers family road trip, Road Trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-14 22:45:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18485980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteravenGreywolf/pseuds/WhiteravenGreywolf
Summary: It's the annual Ramvers family trip! Carol and Monica stop by Atlanta for the night before heading to Washington to pick up Maria. And even though Monica was off to college for the entire year, it only hit Carol now that her daughter was a not a kid anymore.





	My Squire is All Grown Up

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! More Ramvers family, as promised. Today is the only other story of this week that will not be wedding related, it seems. Someone asked me a while back to write a story about Monica defending Carol during a family trip. I changed it up a bit but I hope you will like it anyway!  
> We are just 10 days away from the release of Endgame and I have been torturing myself over the same thought for the past month or so: Are they going to kill Captain Marvel within the first hour of the movie or not? My mom always tells me 'no, they wouldn't do that' but like, they killed half of their cast in Infinity War, Marvel is not afraid of anything at this point... If they do kill Carol an hour into the movie, I'm going to spend the following 2 crying my eyes out. I'm not even going to be able to see the screen anymore, it's all going to be a blur of tears...  
> Anyway, glad I could share my worries with you so now you're going to worry with me! See you tomorrow guys!

It was time for another family road trip, though this year it was a bit special. It was the first one since Monica had started college, and Maria was stuck at work for the first day of their trip. The plan was for Carol and Monica to leave home together, and make the first stop in Atlanta. The following day they would drive all the way to Washington, where Maria would join them. The last day they would drive all the way to Harpswell, to the Danvers home.

  
When they made it to Atlanta, the sun had barely started to dip over the horizon. Carol parked the car in front of their hotel and walked out quickly. She stretched her arms, shoulders and back with a groan.

  
"Next year I'm borrowing a Quinjet. I don't care."

  
Monica climbed out of the car, chuckling at Carol's words.

  
"Just because you're the director's best friend doesn't mean you can do whatever you want."

  
"I'm just borrowing it! It's not like I'm taking it on a combat training. I can fly a plane without crashing it, you know."

  
Monica put her backpack over her shoulders and opened the trunk. She pulled out a brand new military issued traveling bag, the sight of which made Carol pause for a moment. No, Monica hadn't borrowed her mother's bag, it was hers. She held out Carol's who snapped out of her confusion quickly and took it.

  
Together they made it into the hotel lobby, where they were handed their key. After dropping their traveling bags in the room, Monica suggested they look around the city for a bit, since for once they hadn't arrived late into the night. Carol would have been fine with just lying on her bed and not move until her stomach grumbled too much, but she wanted to spend time with her daughter, so she agreed.

  
They explored downtown Atlanta, though Carol had no idea what they would find. She hadn't really prepared for a trip into the city, so they just walked down the streets side by side, talking about Monica's school year, mostly. The further they walked, the more the sky turned from a light dusting of blue to a deep orange color. They stopped to look in the shop windows of any shop that seemed relatively interesting, whether it be clothes or tourist traps.

  
Finally, as the sun had set over the taller buildings, Carol came to a stop in front of a construction site. The edge of an ever-growing building could be seen above the fence. The signs on the fence advertised for a soon-to-be aquarium. Carol stopped reflectively in front of the sign, looking at the drawing of what the building was supposed to look like once it was over. She huffed.

  
"Too bad. We could have taken a trip to the aquarium."

  
"Aren't you a little old for aquariums?" Monica asked.

  
Carol gasped in indignation. She looked at her daughter with shock.

  
"You are never too old for the aquarium!"

  
Monica chuckled and looked at the sign as well. After contemplating it for a few more minutes, Carol felt her stomach grumble. She checked her watch. It was almost dinner time.

  
"I don't know about you, but I really could eat something right now."

  
Monica felt her stomach rumble lowly at the mention of food.

  
"Yeah, dinner sounds like a good idea."

* * *

  
  
On the way back to their hotel they found a nice place to eat at, though unfortunately there was a bit of wait. Carol and Monica settled at the bar while they waited for a table to be freed. Carol ordered a beer, Monica a soda, and they started talking again.

  
The restaurant wasn't small, but it wasn't a big establishment with tables as far as the eye could see either. The bar was opposite the entrance door, and wooden tables were placed all along the other walls and windows, as well as a few in the middle of the room. The lights were bright and the smell of food only made Carol even more hungry. They could have gone somewhere else but this place advertised the best sundaes of the city, and Carol did not want to miss that.

  
"They have these new combat flight simulators, rights?" Monica explained as she sipped her soda, "and apparently you can't use them without puking your guts out. Our instructor joked about it, tried to prepare us mentally and all. So I thought: 'mom always says bread is good against being motion-sick, so I'll eat as much bread as I can'."

  
Carol laughed in anticipation. She could already see where this was going.

  
"Not a very good idea."

  
"Well, you should have told me that before I ate five bread-sticks from the cafeteria! I lasted almost halfway through the simulator before I couldn't anymore. Not the record but close."

  
Carol finished her beer and replied with a smile:

  
"I doubt even I could do it. These simulators are brutal. I never had to try one but all of my new recruits have pretty bad memories of those."

  
"SHIELD doesn't have combat simulators yet?"

  
"Fortunately for me, no. But it's probably just a matter of time. Then we'll get to compare scores."

  
As Carol looked around to see if a table at been freed and they hadn't been forgotten, something over Carol's shoulder caught Monica's attention. She frowned. When Carol turned back to her, about to joke how they'd been completely forgotten, Monica said:

  
"I'll be right back."

  
Carol watched as Monica pushed herself out of her stool and walked quickly past all the tables, to a small one in the corner, where a man was dining alone. Carol noticed the waitress beside him, looking very hurt and anxious. Monica came to stand beside the waitress, and if she focused enough, Carol could make out their conversation over the restaurant's noise:

  
"I think you should apologize to this young woman," Monica said.

  
The man glared at her.

  
"Whatever," the man replied. "It's none of your damn business."

  
"It's my business when I see another woman being groped against her will. So apologize."

  
"What, are you jealous?" the man asked confidently, as his eyes looked up and down Monica.

  
Carol's blood was boiling. She was just about to get up, run to the end of the room, and punch the man through the window. She clenched her fist, ready to intervene quickly. However, it wasn't necessary.

  
"I won't repeat it again. Apologize."

  
The man raised his hand to show his middle finger to Monica. She seized his hand and twisted his fingers back, making the man yell a high-pitched scream. With her other hand, she pressed his head against the window. The scream and the sound of his very empty skull hitting the window had suddenly plunged the restaurant in complete silence. Everyone watched Monica holding down the man with incredible ease.

  
"Now you listen to me," she said between her teeth, "You're going to apologize to this young woman, who is probably too polite or too afraid of losing her job to slap you when she really should have. If you don't, then you can leave, because you're keeping a table and other people are waiting. Got it?"

  
The man vaguely nodded against her hand. She let him go and he yelped again as his fingers were set back into place. Everyone was silently waiting to see what he was going to do. After a moment of reflexion, while he rubbed his sore fingers, he fetched a couple of crumpled bills and threw them on the table. He stood up quickly, pushing past Monica and the waitress. As he left, however, Carol could distinctively hear him mutter some very racists words toward her daughter. And that just wouldn't do.

  
She stood up and blocked his path. Before he could shout something at her, she placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

  
"Easy there, fellow. I could swear I just heard you mumble some racists insult toward that young lady. Now, you probably know that words like these can get you in jail, right? If I remember correctly, it's a maximum of four years for using racist insults against someone. Lucky for you, I'm a federal agent."

  
Carol pulled out her card quickly to show it to him, just quickly enough so he could get a look at the official part of the job and not the fact that her card clearly said that she was a pilot. It was effective enough, as the man visibly paled.

  
"I can very easily streamline the process, even give you more time. How about double the sentence? Eight years? You know what, let's round that up to ten because I like clear cut numbers like that. Ten years in jail because the filter between your brain and your mouth doesn't work is a bit too much, don't you think?"

  
He nodded frightfully. She turned him so he could face Monica and the waitress around and kept her hand on his shoulder.

  
"So here's what you're going to do. You're going to apologize to the waitress who had to suffer your unfortunate behavior. You're going to apologize to the brave young woman who almost tore off your fingers. Then you're going to apologize to the people of the restaurant for bothering them. Got it?"

  
Again, he nodded. He swallowed thickly, his wide eyes looking around the room as if someone was suddenly going to stand up for him.

  
"Come on, we're waiting," Carol said as she shook him a little.

  
He cleared his throat.

  
"Sorry," he said as he looked to the waitress and Monica as if that were enough.

  
Carol grimaced playfully.

  
"Wow, that was really bad. Is this your first time apologizing? Just repeat after me, okay: 'I'm sorry for being an incredible misogynist racist who doesn't think women and people of color deserve to be treated as human beings'."

  
When he didn't say anything, Carol shook him a bit more and squeezed on his shoulder with her hand. She'd had just about enough with this guy.

  
"Go on. What are you waiting for? Everyone's waiting on you."

  
Finally, he mumbled:

  
"I'm sorry for being a misogynist racist who doesn't think women deserve to be treated as human beings..."

  
"That was not good enough."

  
Still, because she was really tired of his shit, she threw him toward the door. His head knocked against the glass door and he stumbled back, before running out, thoroughly humiliated. Carol sighed. Everyone was staring at her.

  
"Sorry for the interruption. This is what happened when you don't educate your children properly."

  
She walked back to her seat at the bar, and after a few minutes and a few more people staring at her, conversations started again. A minute or so later, Monica joined her back at the bar.

  
"Thanks," Monica said as she sat back down on her stool.

  
Carol shook her head.

  
"You don't need to thank me. You handled it very well."

  
Monica finished her soda in one gulp.

  
"It's just that, as soon as I saw what he was doing..."

  
Carol smiled.

  
"I'm proud of you. I also hadn't realized that you could twist a man's finger like that..."

  
Monica chuckled.

  
"It's crazy what they teach you at the academy."

  
The waitress from before came to stand beside them. She cleared her throat and said:

  
"Excuse me but your table is ready."

  
Carol and Monica nodded and stood up. They followed her to the man's table, now clean and set for two. They sat down and she handed them the menu. While Monica poured over the menu, Carol looked at her daughter longly. She was so mature and strong now. How had she not noticed it before?

  
"Everything okay?" Monica asked when she noticed Carol staring at her.

  
"Yeah, just, I'm very proud of you."

  
"Thanks, mom..." Monica mumbled with embarrassment, while Carol continued to smile at her proudly.

  
The waitress came back soon after with two tall chocolate milkshakes, which she placed in front of them. Before either Carol or Monica could say anything about it, the waitress said:

  
"It's on the house. My mom's the owner, she saw you kick him out."

  
"Well, it was a pleasure to help."

  
The waitress smiled at them then returned to work. Carol picked up her milkshake and held it out.

  
"To us. Kicking men's ass and drinking milkshakes."

  
Monica giggled but clinked her glass anyway. Carol sipped her milkshake then placed the glass back on the table.

  
"We're like knights," she decided.

  
"Shouldn't I be your squire, then?" Monica asked.

  
"No way, you just got promoted to full-blown knight tonight."


End file.
